


A Horror in the Woods

by RoseoftheBrightSea



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Gen, Reanimation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 10:16:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18892609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseoftheBrightSea/pseuds/RoseoftheBrightSea
Summary: "AU where, Celebrimbor is just like…. accidentally created by Curufin, who was trying to reanimate Feanor’s corpse" -- youngman-willow on Tumblr.





	A Horror in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [youngman-willow](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=youngman-willow).



> Just a really rough fic based off of the idea.

“It will work.” Curufin clung to the words, repeating the mantra again and again until they slurred together. “It will work. It will work. It will work.”

Sweat dripped from his nose, splashing against the corpse’s chest. Curufin cursed and dabbed the sweat away with his sleeve, careful not to smear the intricate script painted on his father’s body. Few of the Eldar had bothered to learn Valarin, and fewer still had learned it from the Master of Lies, but Curufin was never one to turn away knowledge, heretical or not.

Curufin could  _feel_  his  _fëa_  trying to slip from his body, tugging towards Fëanor’s corpse. He let it go. An initial spark of life might bring the  _fëa_ back to the  _hröa,_ the Enemy had said. Curufin would gladly let his entire soul serve as kindling for his father’s return.

Celegorm was shouting something, but Curufin couldn’t hear. He was so close. Just a bit more and Fëanor would be back _._

The corpse twitched and Curufin let out a strangled cry of joy.

“Atar!” He screamed, his hands trembling just above the corpse’s skin. “Atar! Return to us!”

Silver smoke rose from the Valarin script, swirling over the corpse and ultimately pouring into Fëanor’s lips and nose. Curufin’s own skin began to pale and wither, but he hardly noticed. What did it matter? His father was returning.

Celegorm wrenched him back. Curufin screamed and tried to fight against his brother’s grip, but Celegorm was stronger.

“This has gone too far,” Celegorm growled. “I will not let you give your life for—”

The corpse groaned. Taking advantage of his brother’s shock, Curufin scrambled away, falling before his father. Fëanor’s eyes blinked open.

“It is me, Atar,” Curufin said, pushing back the hair from his father’s forehead. He let out a staggered breath. “It worked. You are back.”

Fëanor stared back with wide, glossy eyes. His blue lips trembled, clearly unable to form words yet.

“The eyes are different, Curufinwë,” Celegorm said, his voice hollow. “They are gray, brother, not silver-blue.”

“You cannot expect everything to be the same,” Curufin hissed over his shoulder. He turned back to Fëanor with a sweet smile. “Isn’t that right, Atar?”

Fëanor began to cry.

* * *

"So it isn't him," Celegorm said.

They had built a fire and wrapped the creature in furs. For hours, they had questioned the thing, desperate to find some trace of Fëanor within it. Yet there was nothing. It stared back at them with wide, terrified eyes, clearly unable to comprehend their words. Celegorm had wanted it dead, but Curufin could not bear to see further harm come to Fëanor's body, even if its  _fëa_ was no longer present.

"No," Curufin agreed. "It isn't him."

"Atar," the creature said, leaning against Curufin's side.

Curufin shivered at its affection. No, the monstrosity that resided within his father's corpse was not a mindless puppet as he had initially suspected. When Celegorm had unsheathed his dagger, the thing had drawn back, and when Curufin stepped between them, it had latched onto him. Perhaps it lacked a true soul, but it was capable of basic thought. The only word it spoke was "Atar," a cruel parroting of Curufin's earlier pleas.

"What are we to do?" Celegorm asked, eying it carefully.

"I... I do not know," Curufin admitted. "I need time. Time to think."

"We need to tell Maitimo. Maybe he will--"

"No!" Curufin gripped Celegorm's arm tightly. "No, the others cannot know. If word gets out of how I... Even Maitimo will not be able to protect us. No one can know. It is best to keep them in the dark."

Celegorm raised an eyebrow, but he did not protest the point. He nodded to the creature. "What do you propose, then?"

Curufin worried his bottom lip and turned to the monster. It watched the fire with curious eyes, smiling at how the flames danced atop the logs.

"I will stay with it. You should return to camp." Celegorm began to protest, but Curufin continued on. "No doubt they think us dead already. Tell them that after Atar died, I fled with grief. Tell them that you chased after me and could not convince me to return. Once I know what to do with the creature, I will come back to the camp."

"And if they ask after our father's body?"

"The enemies took it as a trophy. It crumbled to ash at the Balrogs' swords," Curufin said dismissively. "Anything. It does not matter, so long as they do not go seeking it."

Celegorm sniffed and crossed his arms. "I am not leaving you with that thing."

"Yes, you are." Curufin lifted his own dagger, still sheathed. The thing did not seem to mind, so long as the blade was not showing. It seemed fascinated by the intricate designs on the scabbard. "I do not think it is dangerous, but if I am wrong, I will not be caught unaware."

* * *

 

**_Sixty years later._ **

"Repeat your name."

"Telperinquar."

"And your mother's name?"

"Amardis."

"Tell me more of her," Curufin demanded.

Celebrimbor hesitated. He conjured up the image of his mother, the one he had created at Curufin's instructions. She was of the Nandor, with chestnut hair and gray eyes. Her smile was soft and freely given, and she always met Celebrimbor in the eye.

"She found you collapsed in the woods after Dagor-nuin-Giliath and nursed you to health in her home. Her parents had traveled West with Denethor, but Amardis knew few of her people. She... My mother kept her house in the silence of the forest. She came to love you and conceived me within two years of your first meeting, but she died a week before my seventh begetting day. It was a raiding party of orcs. You killed them all in retaliation. We stayed to take care of her home and honor her legacy, but once I reached adulthood, you thought it best for us to seek out your kin."

"Good," Curufin said, nodding in approval. "Celegorm knows we are coming. He will help keep the focus on me and not you, so you will not need to explain yourself much. Act shy with my brothers. As for the rest, ignore them. We will say you are unaccustomed to so many in one place. That will be enough."

 _That won't be so hard_ , Celebrimbor thought. He had never seen another soul, besides his father and Celegorm, and his uncle's visits had been few and far between. His hands trembled at the thought of mingling with his father's kin.

"I will make you proud, Atar," Celebrimbor swore.

Curufin gave him a tired smile. "We will see."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, but also imagine Sauron's sheer delight at discovering Celebrimbor's true nature while torturing him to death. This is such a horrible, wonderful idea.


End file.
